


You're mine, Tommy

by lsaacLahey



Series: newtmas one shots [5]
Category: The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Hand Jobs, Jealous Newt, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Smut, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-04-01 16:12:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4026415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lsaacLahey/pseuds/lsaacLahey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Why am I like what?” Thomas asks in pure confusion, and that’s what Newt doesn’t like, the innocence, the genuine confusion about almost everything, but at the same time it drives him crazy. </p><p>“Like-” Newt searches for the words at the back of his throat, “Like a bloody shucking tease!”</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're mine, Tommy

Newt tries not to show it, but he sure as hell feels it, the bubbling jealousy in the pit of his gut that washes away the warm pleasant feeling of alcohol as it slides down his throat, instead its slimy, a gross sludge that makes him wanna puke. 

His eyes lock on Thomas, who’s taken a seat between Minho and Ben, they’re rather close to each other, way too close for Newt’s comfort. But that’s the thing, Newt doesn’t own Thomas, the brunet can do whatever he wants and there is no valid reason for Newt to be feeling the seething jealously pulse through his veins.

It’s utter bullshit and Newt just wants it to go away. He takes a large swig from the glass jar, ignoring its texture as it goes down and stands up. Immediately he feels a rush to his head and he feels good, confident, enough to march straight over to Tommy, but his rational side decides against it, it’s childish and it’s not like they’re lip locked or anything, but the thought of his Tommy being kissed by either of the two is so repulsive he can’t take it. He stumbles over to the group, surely he looked nearly ominous by the startled facial expressions on both Ben and Thomas.

“Did someone die?” Minho raises an eyebrow.

“Tommy, can I talk to you.” Newt’s words are slurred but he tries to sound as professional as he can, he can’t have Minho making fun of them again, always trying to imply that something was there when there wasn’t, it was ridiculous. 

_Why wasn’t there anything there?_

“Uh, sure.” Thomas stands and begins following Newt, far off enough into the woods where they wouldn’t be heard.

It’s the same as always, no breeze to ruffle the tree leaves, no sound of dripping water, just the silence and loud drunken cheers from the bonfire. 

“So?” Thomas leans back against a tree, avoiding eye contact. And for some reason that makes Newt even more angry.

“So?” Newt laughs bitterly, “So, why do you-” he starts off. “Why are you like that?”

“I think you’ve had too much to drink.” Thomas tries to reach out to grab Newt’s arm, but the blonde jumps back.

“Don’t you bloody interrupt me, Tommy.” Suddenly Newt is moving closer, so close the blond can see the details of Thomas’s face, close enough to get lost in the other eyes, close enough to share alcohol breath. 

“Why am I like what?” Thomas asks in pure confusion, and that’s what Newt doesn’t like, the innocence, the genuine confusion about almost everything, but at the same time it drives him crazy. 

“Like-” Newt searches for the words at the back of his throat, “Like a bloody shucking tease!” 

Thomas’s eyes widen as he locks eyes with Newt, “I don’t-”

Newt smashes his lips against Thomas’s, rough, messy, hot. Thomas kisses him back with just as much enthusiasm, his hands resting on Newt’s side digging into the skin, possibly looking for blood and bone.

Newt has his hands running through Thomas’s hair, tugging lightly, it doesn’t take the jealously away, just makes him worry that someone else could be doing this with  _his Tommy_.  **His.** He moves from Thomas’s mouth, to the corners of his lips, open mouthed wet kisses down to his neck.

 _“Shit.”_ is all that manages to escape from Thomas’s lips and suddenly it’s Newt’s favorite word. He wants the Tommy to make more noise, enough so that everyone at the bonfire will hear and know exactly what’s going on. He bites down on the dirtied skin and begins sucking, marking, Tommy was his.

“N-Newt.” Thomas moans and throws his head back for better access. Each purple bruise that’s left eases the bubbling in Newt’s stomach into something totally different. He needs more. He pulls away from Thomas.

“Why’d you stop?” Thomas mumbles, still panting.

“If you want me to help you with that,” Newt gestures to below Thomas’s waist, “You have-”

“I’m yours.” Thomas says before Newt can finish his sentence, and it baffles the blonde that for once he didn’t need to be blunt. Thomas pulls Newt in, and kisses him again, tongue running against the roof of Newt’s mouth like it owned the place,  hands roaming Newt’s body, leaving electricity in its path until it settles on Newt’s ass and gives it a squeeze, which goes straight to Newt’s dick.

Newt has other plans as he allows his hands to hover just above the waist band to Thomas’s pants and slowly pushes his fingers against the hot skin. The sound Thomas lets out only makes Newt’s dick throb harder against his pants as he bites back a noise of his own. He slides his fingers beneath the fabric, feels Thomas’s hard on and wraps his fingers around it earning a gasp in response. He gives it a quick jerk, and Thomas’s knees go weak that he nearly falls on top of the blond, but he manages to keep upright, biting and sucking on Newt’s bottom lip.

Newt breaks the kiss, and begins kissing Thomas everywhere else possible, the tip of his nose, his eye lids, his cheeks, as he strokes the brunet’s dick, mumbling  _you’re mine, my tommy, mine,_ between every peck, every moan, he’s sure they’re being way to loud, and the way Thomas yells Newt’s name as he comes is absolute bliss to his ears.

Coming down from orgasm, boldly, Thomas grab’s Newt’s hard on through his pants,  _“Now its my turn.”_


End file.
